


The Boy Next Door

by gracefulbirb



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adorable Harry Potter, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Baby Harry Potter, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Someone actually notices the abuse Harry gets and does something about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracefulbirb/pseuds/gracefulbirb
Summary: Cynthia frowned. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen the little black haired boy limping as he passed her house. His glasses were practically falling off his small nose and his clothes were clearly outsized and unsuitable for the cold weather. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she watched him stagger into house next door with slight concern.This just will not do.When the young but mysterious lady, who lives on the other side of the Dursleys, notices Harry’s abuse from them, she does what anyone else ought to do: she sues the Dursleys and consequently adopts Harry from their awful grasps.Cynthia Fraser is a woman full of secrets with a patchy past but pours her heart and soul in raising Harry to be the best he can be. Harry Potter becomes Harry Fraser, a boy who has a passion for baking and music.When Harry turns eleven, Hagrid shows up at the Dursleys' now empty house and is thoroughly confused.Where on earth is the Boy-Who-Lived?And who is the boy next door?
Relationships: Harry Potter & Dean Thomas, Harry Potter & OC, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Remus Lupin & Harry Potter, Sirius Black & Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 100





	The Boy Next Door

Cynthia sipped at her cup of tea and nestled on her sofa by the window . It was pouring outside which was  fairly typical of British weather, especially during winter. 

Sighing in relief as she took another sip of her tea, she glanced out of the window and frowned. This  wasn’t the first time she’d seen the little black haire d boy limping home as he passed by her window. His glasses were practically falling off his little nose and his clothes were clearly outsized and unsuitable for the weather.  Narrowing her eyes, she watched him stagger into the house next door with slight concern.

Cynthia Fraser had moved into the house adjacent to 4 Privet Drive for almost a month and had not been pleased with what she had seen. Everything was disgustingly ordinary and tidy- something she was not accustomed to. The children were all noisy and filthy, as all children were, especially the bigger boy next door. There was something  _ pig  _ about that boy, Cynthia pondered. 

However, the smaller boy concerned her- he was small, both short and skinny and seemed to be the runt of the family. The shouts from next door could often be heard when she walked  past and it unsettled her.  She’d asked the other lady at 2 Privet Drive and was thoroughly disappointed when she was simply told that it was the “norm”. Her new neighbours disappointed her. 

Then again, it was Little Whinging, the name itself was bland and disappointing. 

At least the housing was relatively cheap.

* * *

Harry frowned as he huddled in his small cupboard under the stairs. Aunt Petunia was whining about the new neighbour next door again. Apparently, no one had lived there for quite some time and the new neighbour was “aloof” and “ pompy ” as Aunt Petunia put it. Harry had only seen glimpses of the new neighbour and  didn’t exactly agree with his aunt. 

Everyone in Little Whinging seemed rather boring and similar and the new neighbour was most definitely not boring. She had bright purple and blue hair and constantly wore sunglasses- even  during rain- and dressed in a peculiar dark trench coat that  he’d never seen anyone wear the likes of before. She was everything the Dursley’s were not- strange and  _ un _ ordinary. It fascinated him.

“She thinks she’s so aloof,” Petunia shrieked. Harry winced at the sharp  sound; the cupboard door offered little soundproofing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s a  _ freak  _ like Lily!”

“A freak, you say?” Vernon bellowed. “They deserved to be burnt at stake!”

Harry shuddered and tuned out the rest of the conversation. While he was no stranger to the awful minds of his uncle and aunt, it always made him uncomfortable when they discussed his parents. He knew they  weren’t freaks like  everyone said they were. 

* * *

The next thing Harry knew was  Petunia’s  high-pitched voice, screeching about human rights  accompanied by Uncle Vernon’s loud shouts and Dudley’s pig-like squeals of horror.  Harry  didn’t dare open his cupboard door. 

His cupboard door was knocked on.

Harry flinched.

No one in the family knocked like that. Aunt  Petunia  didn’t bother knocking, Uncle Vernon would slam his meaty hands on the door before yanking it open and Dudley would prefer to  knock aggressively until the door started splintering. Harry trembled in fear.

“Harry?” a light voice asked. It  wasn’t Aunt Petunia’s voice although it was definetly a woman’s voice.  It was a bit deeper but seemed more sincere than any other voice  he’d ever heard. But Harry was worried that it was all a terrible trick. 

He may have been  only  seven, but he knew he was a “bright button” according to his teacher. He knew you should never talk to strangers. 

His curiosity won over him in seconds and he pried open the door. 

The peculiar neighbour stood crouched there. She  wasn’t wearing her sunglasses although they were propped up on her head , revealing dark brown- almost black eyes which reminded him of shiny black pebbles. She looked much younger ,  not too much older than himself. Her hair was different today, it was dark brown with blue  highlights, and she wore  a variety of different colours and topped it off with a black trench coat. It was very strange, and it fascinated Harry. 

“Hello Harry,” she said gently.  Harry blinked at her owlishly. “I’m  Dr Cynthia Fraser, but you can just call me Cynthia.”

“Where’s my Uncle and Aunt?” Harry asked her quietly.  Cynthia’s smiling face turned into a frowning one. 

“They’re gone,” she said after a few moments. “You’ll never see them again. They will not be able to hurt you anymore. Dudley too.”

Harry paused. He wanted to jump in the air and celebrate but at the same time, he felt alone. Where was he going to  now ?  He’d heard about the stories about orphanages and didn’t want to be locked away.

“I don’t want to go to an orphanage,”  Harry whined, grabbing Cynthia’s sleeve- causing the girl to flinch away before relaxing sligh tly. 

“I grew up in the orphanage,” the older girl told him, as if sharing a great revelation. “You’ll love it there. You gain a big family.” She rummaged in one of her pockets before pulling out a worn photo.  It showed lots of children of all age and sizes grinning up at the camera. They looked happy. 

Harry wondered if he could ever be that happy.

“That’s from my time at the orphanage,” Cynthia whispered before placing the photo away. “I’m sure you’ll love it there.”

Harry was quiet.

“Okay then,” he said after a few moments of consideration. “I’ll go.”

Cynthia watched as the policemen took Harry to the orphanage, the little raven-haired boy giving her a little wave as they drove past. 

“I didn’t know you were good with children,”  one of the policemen, still clearing up commented. “You did good, Fraser. Now those horrible people  won’t be able to hurt that poor  lil ’ boy again.”

Cynthia hummed. “Poor boy,” she agreed. 

She had a persistent feeling that it  wouldn’t be the last time she saw the lad.

* * *

**_ Two months later _ **

“Good morning, Dr Fraser speaking,”  Cynthia said automatically as she answered the phone with one hand, the other buttering her morning toast. “How can I help?”

“ Golly, I do hope I’m not disturbing you,” a loud woman’s voice almost shouted across the phone. Cynthia resisted the temptation to drop the phone.

“Of course not. What’s your emergency?”

“No, no, not an emergency. Little Harry Potter wanted to talk to you,” the voice carried on. “I’m the matron from the orphanage. Harry is the youngest child we  have, and he feels rather lonely, I’m afraid.”

“Ah, I see,” Cynthia said haltingly as she placed down her buttering knife. “Would you pass the phone to him then?” There was a rustle on the other side of the phone before Harry’s small voice piped over a small greeting.

“Good morning, Harry,” Cynthia said amiably. “How come you’d like to talk?”

“The orphanage doesn’t have anyone my age. Tom’s the next youngest but  he’s fifteen,” Harry’s small voice said quietly. 

Cynthia frowned.

Harry continued, “And I really…”

* * *

**_ One month later after that _ **

“Cynthia! I’ve got all my stuff,” Harry chirped. He was looking much better than the first time  she’d seen him.  He’d started developing a little bit of baby fat and his scar was barely visible . His round glasses had been replaced with standard rectangular ones and his hair was neatly trimmed. 

“Hello Harry,” Cynthia responded sincerely with fondness. “That’s lovely to hear. Let me give in some paperwork and we can go home, okay?”

Harry practically  shook with excitement as he clutched a teddy in his arms. “Yes,” he said, grinning like there was no tomorrow. 

Cynthia smiled fondly. 

_ What the f _ _ * _ _ ck am I doing _ _ \-  _ _ I’m _ _ young,  _ _ goddamnit _ _ \- I’m adopting a f _ _ * _ _ cking _ _ child _

_ A real f _ _ * _ _ cking _ _ child. _

_ Sh _ _ * _ _ t. _

Cynthia wanted to scream as she came to that realisation but remembered Harry’s excitement and smiling face and stopped. 

_ Whatever.  _ _ I’ll _ _ try my best.  _

_ Raising a child  _ _ can’t _ _ be too hard. _

She’d regret ever saying that.

* * *

**_ Two  _ ** **_ year _ ** **_ s _ ** **_ later _ **

“Harry Fraser, you have one minute to get down here right now or you’re going to be late for school!” Cynthia shouted impatiently, tapping her foot as she leaned against the front door. There were several loud clatters and bangs before Harry jumped  down from the banister. 

“ Oh my gawd noona,”  Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. “You’re acting like my mum.”

“Maybe it’s because I  _ am  _ your m u m?” Cynthia replied, raising an eyebrow. “Legally anyway.”

“Well, to me, you’re noona,”  Harry responded, grinning as he held up his school bag. “Take me to school?”

Cynthia rolled her eyes as she ruffled his short hair. “Alright then chum, let’s go.”

“ Why do you call your mum ‘noona’?”  someone asked him.

“Well, because she’s not much older than me. Mum’s only  twenty- four ,” Harry replied thoughtfully. “Plus, she told me to. She says it’s cute.”

His classmate nodded, accepting his explanation. 

“I’m Dean. Dean Thomas ,” the classmate said, extending his hand out to Harry. “I just moved here.”

“Harry. Harry Fraser,”  Harry responded, shaking his hand. 

“Sick scar,” Dean noted.

“Thanks,” Harry said, touching his forehead.  He liked this new boy. Dean  seemed to have a friendly presence about him.

“What do you mean? You need backup?” Cynthia screeched into the phone, slamming her other hand on the table. “You know I’m  retired, and I have a child now. I can’t leave him alone for goodness knows how long ?”

“Mum?” Harry said quietly, not wanting to disturb Cynthia from her heated conversation. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll call you back,” she said hurriedly into the phone before  hanging up abruptly. “Harry, I’m sorry you had to see that. You came home early today.”

“What do you mean, retired? You’re young, aren’t you?” Harry asked, ignoring her attempt to change the subject. 

“You don’t have to be old to retire,” Cynthia explained, shrugging. “And the rest, I’ll tell you about when you’re older.” Harry frowned, displeased with the vague explanation before huffing.

“I’ll wait.  I got a new friend today, his name’s Dean and he….”

Cynthia let out a sigh of relief as Harry started telling her all about his day. She was glad Harry was nosy. He really  didn’t need to know about her past. That was something she was  _ not  _ looking forward to telling him about.

* * *

**_ Several Years Later _ **

Cynthia was not stupid. In fact, if anything, she was the opposite of stupid. She had a PHD  in forensic science and spent over five years as a  secret agent. , it was very hard to beat that. 

So , when Cynthia took Harry to the zoo for his ninth birthday, she either had to be 1) stupid or 2)  neglectful if she  hadn’t noticed the way Harry  _ spoke  _ to the freaking snake.  To make matters worse, Harry told her nothing.

She bought him a pet snake that Christmas. Harry  confessed about his weird snake speaking abilities to her the next day.

Cynthia was also not unaware of the weird things that Harry did. Like the time he threw a tantrum and the plates shattered , or the time he got really scared during a storm and his bedroom window went from being double glazed to triple glazed. She and Harry had nailed these weird instances to one thing,  ‘superpowers’ as Harry elegantly called it while Cynthia referred to them as ‘ quantum physics’. 

Either way, it was pretty cool although ‘quantum physics’  didn’t really explain Harry’s weird ability to speak to snakes. It was just plain weird.


End file.
